Mine Angel To Testify
by sodsta
Summary: A battle over two thousand years old is finally laid to rest. (Contains blood, gore, violence, Biblical references, Blasphemy. If you're religious and easily offended, then this fic probably isn't for you.)


The war was still raging. It appeared nobody had noticed the battle was over. Bodies littered the fields and thunder and lightening and pounding rain were the soundtrack to the awful, bloody massacre. Not a soul was left unhurt, wizards, witches and muggles alike, all broken and damaged and weary from the fight. Nobody had seen the body fall, nobody had paid attention when the final curse had been cast. A flash of blinding green, dimmed and shielded from view as an equally blinding flash of lightning illuminated the area, veiling the touch of death from all who would know what it meant.

The one still standing smiled and watched his enemy fall to the ground in a pitiful heap with a cry of anguish. He placed his wand back in his pocket and moved to stand triumphantly over the body, his victory. It could only ever end this way; he'd known it for years. It had been written in the stars since the last time this man had fallen and he knew, as soon as he had been told about the mark, what his destiny was to be.

He didn't even stop to look around, he couldn't afford to waste such time. He knelt by his fallen nemesis and picked him up with no effort. The life had left him, the fallen one, all that had made him real had dissolved into the atmosphere with that one single curse, and now he was as light as a sheet of parchment, and as white and bare to match.

The rain was cold and bit into the victor's skin as he walked over hills and through valleys, away from the sound of fighting and destruction. He stuck to the shadows and skirted round the waters edge as the sounds of war grew fainter and more distant. They became like long forgotten memories as the night and rain engulfed him and he forced himself onwards, through dense forests and deserted moors until the structure he had been looking for was finally in view. He fought against the rain and the bitter cold as it tried its hardest to keep him back, and eventually he made it through the gates and into the old churchyard.

Shadows as black as pitch stretched out across the path and his shoes squelched in the rain soaked earth as he made his way towards the large oak doors. He'd only ever been here once before, and he was too young at the time to recall any of the old buildings features, but he knew this place. Without needing directions he knew where it was to be found and as he pushed, with his back, against the heavy wooden doors, he knew he had found his way home.

Another bolt of lightening shot through the sky, lighting up the darkened old church and giving him his bearings. Rows and rows of wooden pews lined either side of the large room and a red carpet ran between them, leading to a large stone altar at the head of the building. Several smaller rows, facing inwards towards the altar, lay beyond it and on top of the altar itself were two jewel-encrusted silver goblets. What little light there was glinted off the polished metal, sending the occasional shard of light slicing through the air like a blade.

He carried the lifeless form in his arms towards the altar and laid it gently down on the cold marble floor before turning to the candles on either side. No words were uttered, no spell spoken, but a simple wave of his hand had the wicks on each candle burning and shadows danced and shifted along the walls in the flickering orange light.

This was his. This was all his and nothing could stop him anymore. Nothing stood in his way. He turned back to the body, slumped against the altar, and a triumphant, sadistic smile spread slowly across his face. "Your great crusade has finally come to an end," he said smugly, talking to the corpse as if it were capable of talking back. "And I am victorious. As I always knew I would be." He looked at the sallow skin and skeletal hands and laughed out loud, and it was the laughter of something truly evil, for nothing good and pure could have ever made that sound.

He walked round the legs that jutted out and bent unnaturally at the knees and picked up one of the glittering silver goblets. "There was a time when I thought you might have actually had a chance, and I won't deny being afraid. Only a fool would make such claims. But I could see your weakness, O great saviour. I knew what I had to do, and tonight, out on that battlefield, there was not a single doubt in my mind that I would destroy you."

Another shard of light flashed from the silver and illuminated a pair of cold, mirthless eyes. He reached under red velvet cloth and pulled a dagger from its folds. "But don't think that your death was for nothing. I'm going to share it with the world, so that they can know how much you truly did love them." He sat beside the body and took one cold, lifeless hand and turned it palm up in his lap. "Not that they deserve it, of course."

Another soulless laugh echoed throughout the empty stone hall as he drew the blade firmly across the upturned wrist and placed the goblet under the flow of blood that ran in a thin stream from the wound. He massaged the arm to encourage the flow, as there was no heartbeat behind it. The blood was cold even as it left the body and when the goblet was full, he let the arm drop with a crack onto the marble floor and stood to place the goblet back on the altar. Thunder rumbled outside and all but shook the foundation of the church as he reached out and took up the other goblet. He knew the earth was mourning, as it had done over two thousand years before, and still the smile did not leave his face. He moved to straddle his fallen enemy's legs and took up the opposite arm in his hand, holding on tightly to the bony wrist as he rolled up one long black sleeve.

The sound of metal slicing through flesh and grinding against bone almost drowned out the sounds of the weather raging outside. Each severed finger broke away from the body with either a snap or a pop as bones were broken and tendons slashed. They fell into the silver cup with dull little thuds and each digit that fell filled him with a pride that would forever go unmeasured. Once all four fingers and thumb had been removed, he stood and placed the goblet beside its brother.

"Our Lord Jesus Christ, on the night when he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to the disciples saying, 'Take, eat; this is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me'." The words were all but hissed and he chuckled to himself as he placed the dagger back under the velvet cloth. "You died for their sins once before, man. Have you learned nothing since then?"

He almost seemed to be waiting for an answer and when none came, he frowned and nudged the body with his foot, sending it sliding onto its side, lifeless eyes staring up at the nothing that lay beyond the large stained glass window. "You were always a fool."

The thunder seemed to cease for a moment and the pounding of the rain against the windows softened. He knew, before he'd even turned, what he would see, and he was actually somewhat surprised that it had taken this long. He smiled a cruel, twisted smile when his eyes came to rest upon the glowing white figure standing by one of the towering marble pillars. "I wondered when you'd come."

Draco was silent for quite a time, his long, flowing silvery hair loose and hanging by his sides. He was bare-chested; wearing only a pair of loose white trousers and from his back sprouted a pair of snowy white wings. There was sadness and an obvious pain in his eyes as he looked from the body slumped at the base of altar, to the man standing by it. "Harry… You realise what you've done?" he asked, his voice was hushed and low. "And what this means?"

The laugh echoed once again throughout the building and Harry made his way from the altar over to the first row of pews. "I know exactly what this means, Draco. I've known what it would mean since I found out about the mark. It was destiny, prophesied since before my birth. You knew this. I knew this. He knew this."

"I wasn't meant to end this way," Draco replied, shaking his head. "You were not supposed to follow this path. I believed in you."

"Then you believed wrong. You put faith in something that was doomed to fail. You've been here on Earth too long, Zephon, you've let it soften you."

The thunder outside began to pick back up and Harry stared at Draco for a while, before making his way back over to the altar. Draco stepped away from the pillar and made his way down the isle, stopping several feet from the front line of pews. "I've always believed that there is good in everything. That no matter how black something may appear to be you can always find the light underneath. I've never been proven wrong, Harry, in all my time on Earth and observing from above. He told me I could help you, and I trust his judgement."

"You put a lot of stock in faith, don't you, Zephon?" Harry asked, turning back to face the angel and leaning casually against the cool stone.

"Yes I do."

"Tell me why."

Draco frowned slightly and looked at Harry as if he'd just been wounded. "Have you no faith? Is there nothing that you believe in?"

"There is plenty that I believe in. But I base my beliefs on what I see happening around me. What I've learned from experience. Faith, to me, is little more than false hope. That's why it is called blind."

Harry watched Draco closely, looking into those grey eyes for any sign that he might have made a dent in the angel's armour. Draco simply shook his head. Harry could feel the pity hanging in the air and it riled him. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me. I know what I know, and I know more than you ever will because I'm not clinging to faith like a child who clings to its mother's hand. Open your eyes, Zephon. Take a look at the world in which you've spent so many years. You know it's not as bright and good as He'd like it. And you know who's fault that is, too."

"It was going to be better," Draco cried in defense. "You've destroyed the only thing that would have helped to cure this planet. The only thing that could have saved it from total destruction. I put my faith in _you_… and so it's my fault."

Harry could have knocked the two goblets off the altar if he hadn't wanted so very much to keep them as they were. His jaw clenched and he felt his insides churn with such a deep, intense anger that he could have sworn something inside him was about to explode. He turned to look at the broken and bloody body, lying still on the floor and looked into those empty red eyes. Angels were such a pain in the backside. He took a few deep, calming breaths and placed both hands on the wooden rail running along the front step. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were looking for reassurance." He stood up and turned round once again. "You won't find any here."

Draco shook his head, the pain creasing his brow, turning his eyebrows up and making him look like a little, lost child. "It's not faith that I cling to, Harry."

And now Harry smirked, head tilted slightly forward so he could look up at Draco through slitted eyelids. "I warn you now, Zephon, if you say love I will rip out every single feather on those pretty white wings. One at a time."

There was a silence and Draco bowed his head. "Things were said, Harry. Promises made. You make such beautiful promises. Much like your father."

"Mortals are easily fooled and led astray." Harry voice almost seemed to deepen as he spoke and he waited for Draco to look at him before he went on. "You're no different. By rights, you should have been cast out of Heaven years ago, and those wings should be black."

"I have served my Lord and done his bidding-"

"Ahhh," Harry interrupted. "But have you? You were sent to stop my father in the Garden of Eden all those years ago, sent by none other than Gabriel himself. But you didn't succeed, did you? Eve, stupid mortal that she was, gave in to temptation. She tasted the fruit and then, just like a mortal, she passed her sin onto another. You failed then and you've failed now."

"I tried my best. That's all the Lord asks."

"Then why do you blame yourself for failing this time? Surely you should be proud… Or maybe you realise just _how_ mortal you've become?"

Draco's hands clenched into fists by his sides and Harry could see the tension in his jaw. He studied him for a while and couldn't help but laugh as realisation dawned. "Yes. That's it, isn't it, Zephon? You've allowed human emotion to cloud your judgement. Mortal feeling has impaired your vision and you're ashamed of that, aren't you? You did the one thing you told yourself you would never do and you don't know how to live with that."

Harry could see the colour rising in Draco's cheeks, could feel the heat of shame and embarrassment radiating off of him. He smirked as he brought both hands slowly up to the collar of his shirt and unfastened the buttons there. "You want to do it again, don't you? I can feel it."

Draco averted his eyes, looking pointedly at the body of mankind's only hope, lying dead on the marble. Harry walked forward to stand in front of the corpse, throwing his shirt over the back of the wooden rail and moving deft hands down the skin of his own chest and stomach, finding the fastenings on his trousers. "He's of no use to you now. Just let yourself get lost in this, like you did before. Let go of everything and listen to your instincts. What do they tell you?"

Harry licked his lips hungrily as his trousers and underwear were pushed past his hips and allowed to drop to the floor, pooling around his ankles. He stepped out of them and closed the distance between himself and the angel, reaching up and placing the palm of his hand gently on Draco's chest. "Look at me, Zephon."

Draco's whole body trembled and he kept his eyes on the body. "Harry, I-"

"No," Harry whispered. "Say my name."

Pale eyelashes fluttered softly against pale skin and Draco shivered as grey eyes finally met green. "Damien."

The satisfaction all but rumbled inside Harry's chest and it vibrated down his outstretched arm and through Draco's body. He chuckled softly, keeping his eyes fixed on Draco's. They were like pools of water reflecting an angry sky, not entirely solid, as if a single blink would send ripples across the surface. Very much unlike Harry's eyes, green and solid like gem stones. He ran his hand softly down over Draco's collar bone, feeling the glide of skin against bare skin against his fingertips and watching the distress in Draco's eyes deepen with every second that passed. "I almost didn't believe you would say it," he said in hushed tones, running the tips of three fingers over the small hard mound that was Draco's nipple. "Is it not painful to speak?"

Draco's breath was uneven and Harry felt the angel's body tremble under his touch. "I have spoken it before, but you were asleep at the time. You underestimate me, Damien. I am not what I used to be."

"Oh I have no doubt about that," Harry smirked and finally broke eye contact. He watched his hand's path down from chest to navel and back up again. Up to shoulder and neck and cheek, brushing his thumb gently across pink lips. "You're not what you used to be at all, for you used to be strong. You were an angel once, one of God's messengers. Blessed with Heavenly sight and clarity of mind." And here, Harry sneered. "And now you're no different than the rest of them. Than him." He didn't even need to say the man's name for Draco to know who he was talking about.

Draco shook his head sadly. "I lost sight of my destination, but I know who I am, and I won't let you tempt me again."

There was a silence, only partly disturbed by the pounding of rain against the windows and the occasional crack of lightning across the sky. Harry moved his hand round to the back of Draco's head, running his fingers through pale white hair and leaning forward until his lips were ghosting over Draco's own. "It is not me who is tempting you, but yourself. You want this. Need it more than you need your next breath because you still hold out hope that maybe this will save me." The tip of his nose brushed against the angel's and he smiled, eyes softening ever so slightly. "Go on, Zephon, give into temptation… Save me."

The shiver that ran through Draco's body was so strong that Harry was sure he'd felt the earth move with it. Their lips met and Draco's eyes fell closed as shaky, pale hands lifted slowly from his side and moved to rest gently on Harry's waist. Harry smiled triumphantly and pulled the angel's body closer to him, wrapping one hand round his waist and letting it settle in the small of Draco's back. He could feel the feathers of those magnificent white wings brush against his knuckles and he extended his fingers to stroke them gently, almost soothingly as he deepened the kiss.

The tang of corruption on Draco's lips was sweet, sweeter than any honey and Harry savoured the taste of it on his tongue. It made his blood rush through veins and arteries as if it had never flowed before and his skin tingled with an intense heat as Draco's mouth opened further to grant his tongue greater access. It was as if the world was suddenly spinning out of control and he felt dizzy, unable to keep from tangling his fingers in the angel's long silvery hair as he plundered that sweet, sweet mouth. The innocence had faded from Draco's aura, and where it had once glowed the purest of radiant whites, it was now dimmed and grey. A fact that made Harry swell with pride, for he had done that. He had bent and broken and ruined God's messenger and now he had the power and as Satan as his witness, he would shatter this creature completely.

Both hands moved now, the hand tangled in Draco's hair moved down to the back of his neck, the hand resting in the small of Draco's back made it's way slowly round, over his hip, down his thigh and up to brush ever so lightly against his groin. Draco gasped and broke the kiss. It was almost as if he'd just woken from a dream and realised where he was. He looked down at the hand, now gently fondling him through threadbare fabric, then back up into Harry's eyes, his own wide and filled with shame and fear. "Words roll off your tongue like music, Damien. You're beautiful and far too easy to trust, but I won't. I won't let you fool me this time." He suddenly looked very stern. "Let me go."

Harry simply smiled and made no move to release him. "Oh, don't you see, Zephon?" he asked, almost gleefully. "You have nowhere to go. You don't honestly think he'd let you back now, do you? Stand at those pearly gates and welcome you with open arms?" The smile on Harry's face twisted into a sneer, then, and the grip he had on the back of Draco's neck tightened. "No, my pretty angel. You belong to me now."

There was a moment of complete stillness, in which the only movement was of the flickering candle lights in the breeze, then suddenly, Draco's wings unfolded and he pushed away from Harry as hard as he could before taking flight. Harry had been prepared, of course, he knew to expect nothing less from the angel, and he took off after him. He needed no wings to fly, nor a broomstick, he possessed all the powers of the world now and he grabbed Draco's ankle before he'd made it even half way to the door. "Don't be a fool. I'm trying to make it easy for you. It will be much less painful if you don't fight it."

Draco's wings disturbed every single candle in the hall and the breeze they created was strong enough to shatter a pane of glass in a nearby window. Harry didn't let go, though, and he tugged hard on Draco's leg, pulling him closer and tucking Draco's ankle under his arm. "You know I'm right, Zephon. You can't keep running away from it. You know this, that's why you came here tonight." He grabbed Draco's other ankle and dragged himself up the length of the other boy's body, pressing himself flat against Draco's back and preventing him from moving his wings. They dropped from the rafters instantly, Harry slowing and stopping their decent just seconds before they hit the floor.

"I came here tonight to see if it was true. To see if you really had killed our Lord."

"You came here tonight because you know this is the only place you wouldn't be turned away. This is the only place you wouldn't be scorned for what you are, for what you've become." Harry grabbed Draco by the shoulder and rolled him over so they were face to face. "You came here tonight because you fell in love with me. You, son of Gabriel, fell in love with me, son of the Devil and you know God will never forgive you that sin. This will hang over you for the rest of your immortality and you _know_ that, so stop fighting. Embrace it."

Tears welled in Draco's eyes and he shook his head, the word 'no' forming soundlessly on his lips. Harry growled, and it was the growl of an animal, a wild dog, a wolf, a demon, of something that was most certainly not human. He grabbed Draco by the hair and stood up, pulling Draco to his feet with him. "I'll show you that you're mine. I'll make you see." He dragged the sobbing angel down the aisle, towards the front of the church and kicked Voldemort's lifeless corpse ungraciously out of the way. The goblets were still resting on the altar and Harry took them both and placed them on the floor, out of the way before throwing Draco up onto the altar and climbing atop him, placing a palm firmly in the centre of his chest.

"You want so very much to be forgiven, and yet you have done nothing to show you deserve it."

Draco sobbed and shook his head again, his wings limp and falling unevenly over the sides of the altar. Harry held out his hand and the goblet filled with blood floated, of its own accord, up into the outstretched palm. He brought it round in front for Draco to see and smiled, almost serenely. He removed his hand from Draco's chest and cupped the back of his head, lifting it from the cool stone and placed the goblet to Draco's lips. "In the same way, he took the cup after supper, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, 'Drink this, all of you; this cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sins. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me'."

Draco baulked and tried to turn his head as the blood was poured. He couldn't help but taste it on his lips and feel it as it covered his mouth and cheek and ran in rivulets down his neck and pooled in the hollow of his throat. It was cold now and smelled faintly sweet and it made him feel sick. He let out another strangled sob and shivered as Harry placed the now empty goblet to one side and lay Draco back down. "Do you think he has forgiven you, Zephon? Oh great angel of light. Do you think that he will take you back now?"

Draco didn't answer, for he had not the strength for words. Harry sneered and removed Draco's trousers before lifting his legs and pushing mercilessly into him, delighting in the scream that it drew forth.

__

"Do you ever get scared, Harry?"

Harry chuckled softly and leaned back on the bed, watching Draco gaze out across the grounds. "No," he replied, smiling. "Being afraid… it takes too much effort. I need to concentrate on other things right now." He tilted his head slightly to one side and frowned. "Do you ever get scared?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation to Draco's answer and he wrapped his arms around himself as if the temperature had suddenly dropped. "There's a war raging out there. People we know and love are fighting in it." He paused and sat down on the windowsill, eyes fixed on the horizon. "The outcome of this war won't only effect us… it will change everything." He took a deep breath and tore his eyes away from the window to finally look at Harry. "It will change the world."

"I know. And I also know that things will be better once it's over."

"Better for who?" Draco asked, almost desperately. "If he's killed… I lose everything I've ever known. All that I was promised…" He trailed off and hung his head, leaning back against the stone arch. "And then if you're killed…"

Harry grinned and shook his head, looking for all the world as if tomorrow was just another day. He shifted himself over to the edge of the bed and stood up, walking over to the window ledge and sitting down opposite the other boy. "I won't be. I've promised you this." He smiled and reached out to tilt Draco's head up with gentle fingertips. "Hey, it's your choice. I can't decide for you, all I can do is promise you that I'm not going to die. You're fighting a losing battle if you side with him and you know it. Deep in your heart you know it."

Draco sighed. "You're asking me to just forget everything I've ever been taught?"

"No," Harry replied. "Not forget. I'm asking you to see sense. If you do what's expected of you, if you follow your father onto that battlefield…"

"I'm not doing this for my father!" Draco snapped, turning back to Harry, a frown now creasing his brow. "This is nothing to do with my father… or my family name. This is my life, Harry. This is everything I've ever been brought to believe in… to fight for. You're asking me to just forget it all? I couldn't convince you to join us, could I?"

"No," Harry admitted. "You couldn't."

"So why do you expect it of me?"

Harry looked at Draco and spoke calmly, matter-of-factly, "Because I know I'm going to win."

There was a silence and for a while neither boy moved. A cool, evening breeze fluttered in through the crack of the open window and blew several strands of pale blond hair into Draco's eyes. The sun had begun to set and the grounds now seemed as if they had been painted in different shades of watercolour red. Harry was the first to break the silence. He took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet, moving to stand beside Draco and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Like I said, I can't choose for you. It's your choice and if you feel you must fight against me tomorrow, then I can't stop you."

Draco turned to look up at Harry, a pain much deeper and more intense than Harry had ever seen, clear in his eyes. "What's in it for me… if I stay?"

The dark haired boy smiled, pulled Draco to his feet and kissed him, gently and tenderly and reassuringly. He held Draco by the waist and walked with him over to the bed, sitting him down, pushing him slowly back until his head was resting upon soft pillows and ever so carefully lay himself down atop the other boy's body. "Security, the knowledge that you'll be fighting for the winning side."

Draco's eyes had filled with tears and Harry kissed his cheeks before sitting up and pulling his t-shirt off over his head and letting it drop to the floor. "You'll never need to worry ever again about trying to please someone else." He saw the half-hearted look of dispute in Draco's eyes and leaned down again quickly to ghost his lips lightly over cheeks, nose and chin. "You don't need to keep pretending, Draco," he whispered. "It's alright. I know."

The sob that escaped the blond was quiet, hushed, and Harry was quick to soothe him, running deft and gentle hands down Draco's chest and slowly lifting the hem of his shirt. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm here for you… I'll always be here for you."

Harry eased the shirt over the blond's head and lay him back down, dropping feather soft kisses down over his neck and chest and abdomen.

Draco's breath hitched slightly. "If I stay…"

Harry smiled. "You'll have me."

Draco took another deep breath and closed his eyes as Harry kissed and caressed the tension from his body. Hands that were trembling, now stilled and it wasn't long before both boys were naked and pressed, skin to skin, against each other in a lover's embrace.

Their bodies tangled as they made love, limbs intertwined like snakes, lips pressing hot, passionate kisses onto heated, sweaty skin as they moved together like one body, one soul, one being. The tears in Draco's eyes dried and the fear was replaced with a need so strong, so urgent that Harry thought he'd never seen anything so powerful.

Fingers laced together over Draco's head and Harry's movements became more measured until he was pushing in and pulling out of Draco's body almost painfully slowly. He looked down at the boy beneath him and saw that those grey eyes were fixed on his own. He gripped Draco's hand tighter and smiled down at him. He looked other-worldly, bathed in the glow of moonlight. A shiver ran down the length of Harry's spine and he reached up with his free hand and cupped Draco's cheek. "He can't give you what I can give you…"

Draco's hips rose and fell as Harry pushed slowly and deliberately into him, not once breaking eye contact. He leaned into Harry's hand and brought his own up to meet it. "If I stay…"

It was as if he daren't speak the words. As if it would be safer to hear them from another's lips.

"You can have me."

Draco moaned quietly and finally broke eye contact as Harry moved inside of him again. His eyelashes fell upon soft, pale cheekbones and he reached back behind Harry to encourage more. He trailed his hand lightly over Harry's shoulder and down the ridges and bumps in his spine, stopping briefly to trace the small marks at the base with his fingertips. Three circles with curved tails, two below, one above. "If I stay…"

"You can have… everything."

Draco's answer was an arching of the spine, a movement of the hips, a gasp, a moan, a shudder of uncontained bliss. He pulled Harry closer to him, forcing him further inside and grasped at him desperately, gripping his hand and his shoulder tightly as he turned back and looked into deep emerald eyes. "Harry… I…"

But Harry silenced him with a kiss and pushed them both over the edge of oblivion before holding the blond tightly and soothing him with kisses and sweet promises until he lay soundly asleep in his arms.

Harry climbed off of the altar, leaving Draco to lie, sobbing, on top of it. It was a horrible sound, the sound of an angel in pain. A high pitched keening that rang in your ears like a shrill golden bell. Harry clenched his jaw, fighting to block it out as he knelt down to pick up Voldemort's body. The body of mankind's saviour. He threw the corpse carelessly over his shoulder and made his way down the centre of the aisle, out into the pouring rain. It beat against him violently, bruising his skin and pushing him back as he made his way across the lawn to a large stone cross in the centre of the churchyard. The mud clung to his feet, pulling him down as he went, almost as if the very elements were fighting against him, trying to stop him from completing the task he had set to, but he wouldn't let them. He would complete this. He would sweeten his victory with this one final act and he would let nothing stop him. Not rain or earth, nor angel or God.

This was _his_.

He let the body slide from his shoulder and land with a sickening thud onto the rough surface of the pedestal. "This is your ending, Son of God," he cried over the roar of rain and thunder. "_He that liveth and was dead. He that shall liveth for evermore_. This. Is your. Ending."

He extended his arm, fingers curled and stiff as if they'd been frozen into position. He held his claw-like hand over Voldemort's chest and the body began to rise. It lifted up off the ground, head limp and fallen against his chest like some grotesque marionette. It rose until protruding shoulder blades were level and scraping against the wet stone and there Harry stopped. It hung in the air even when Harry pulled his hand away and he laughed, quietly at first, then it grew into a loud, triumphant roar. "This is only fitting for you," he shouted, turning and reaching down into the limp grass to pick up a large rock. "I wouldn't want to give you any less than you deserve, now, would I?"

A streak of lightning shot across the sky, followed closely by a tremendous clap of thunder that shook the very ground on which Harry stood. "I'd say daddy was none to pleased with me. I take it this means he won't be letting out you out to play anymore." He reached into his pocket and pulled out three sharp, metal nails. "At least our last moments together were memorable." Without any sort of spell being cast, Harry, too, rose up off the ground and stopped when he was at eye level with the pale body's fallen head. He smirked, then leaned forward and kissed the cold skin, whispering, as if those ears were still capable of hearing. "Tell your father Lucifer says hello."

His face suddenly twisted into an ugly mask of hatred and rage. By his will, Voldemort's right arm lifted and pressed flat against the cross. Another clap of thunder only barely drowned out the sound of grinding and shattering bones as the nail was driven brutally through flesh and into stone, cracking and splitting the structure in tiny little valleys that ran like snakes along the length of it in each direction. Blood spilled and oozed from the wound and dripped over white palms and onto the watery mud below as Harry drove the nail home. The second hand rose just as the first and this time there was no thunder or lightning to take away from the sound of metal smashing through bone and muscle as the second nail in Harry's hand was beaten into place.

"_And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me 'Fear not; I am the first and the last: I am he that liveth and was dead; and, behold, I am alive forever more'._"Harry laughed again as he spoke, watching the blood flow from Jesus Christ's body for the second time that night. It was a manic laughter, unearthly and evil, made of everything that was wrong with the universe. He lowered himself back to the floor, still laughing as he drove the third and final nail through both the body's crossed feet, watching as ankles buckled and snapped under the force of his blows.

He stood back, mud sticking to his feet, rain pelting his body and sticking his messy black fringe to his forehead, and surveyed his work. He then turned his eyes upward to the Heavens and threw his arms open wide. "Know this, God. The world no longer belongs to you. You, the creator of all things. You, the giver of life. You have lost everything, and this is YOUR fault." He laughed again and turned, walking back to the church and through the still open oak doors. "Zephon, come. There is something I would very much like for you to see."

The angel still lay atop the altar, wings limp, chest heaving with painful sobs. He didn't move and Harry marched over to the front of the church, grabbing Draco's long blond hair roughly in his fist and pulling him off of the altar and to his feet. Draco had no choice in the matter. "Nobody has answered your call for forgiveness, Zephon. This is your last chance." He dragged Draco, sobbing, from the church and across the muddy lawn, past crumbling graves and towards the body of his crucified Lord. "There. There is your saviour, Zephon. You want forgiveness? Ask him!"

He threw Draco roughly onto the ground in front of the cross and watched as the bruised and broken creature crawled through the mud and got onto his knees before it. He reached up and touched the body's feet, looking up into the lifeless eyes that stared down at him and let out a wail so full of anguish that leaves the rain hadn't already beaten down fell from the trees. The rained seemed to fall harder and lightning flashed across the sky in large jagged forks. Draco sobbed in despair and clung to Jesus' feet. "Please my Lord… please forgive me. I didn't mean to wrong you. I didn't mean to do you harm. I tried to resist, I tried, but this mortal body has made me weak. It has broken me… please don't condemn me. Please forgive me. _PLEASE_."

Water and dirt had made Draco's wings heavy and turned them a dirty grey. They hung heavily in the rain, the once magnificent white feathers, bent and soaked in mud. He continued to beg and plead for his soul, blood dripping from the body's wounds onto his own, mingling with the rain and running in streams down his chest and back, staining his hair pink.

Harry simply smiled. "No one will forgive you, Zephon. You betrayed them."

"NO!" Draco screamed, the tears undistinguishable from the raindrops on his cheeks.

"You gave in to temptation, like the pathetic mortal that you are."

"I didn't… I didn't stay… I left before it began."

"But that wasn't enough to save him, was it?"

Draco screamed again and collapsed in a heap at the base of the cross, sodden, grey wings moving awkwardly to try and shield him from the pounding rain. Harry chuckled and walked over to him, crouching down and grabbing the frame of one wing, pulling it back fast and hard enough to rip several feathers out in his hand. "It doesn't matter now, Zephon. He's dead, and he's not coming back this time. This time _I_ am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end."

Draco whined like an animal in pain and shook his head. "Stop it."

Harry frowned. "Look at me… Zephon, look at me. Zephon…."

Draco didn't move.

"Draco…"

The blond looked up, eyes red and swollen. "Please…"

Harry looked at Draco for a while, then smirked again and stood up, pulling Draco up by the wing this time and walking with him back into the church. "It's time to go home… I'm sure there are people waiting for me."

Draco didn't fight, nor did he beg, he simply cried silently as Harry pulled him back over towards the altar and held out his hand. The altar moved slowly from its position in the centre of the platform to reveal a long, uneven stone staircase leading down into shadow. Harry pulled Draco in front of him and held onto his shoulders, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. "Your place is with me now." He kissed the shell of Draco's ear and smirked as a small sob escaped from the angel's throat.

The body would be discovered by the dawn, but it was too late. It was all finally over, after nearly two thousand years, and Damien led his spoils of war, by the shoulders, down the staircase and into Hell.


End file.
